by Stacy Eaton
I glanced over and saw Jasmine and Ember grinning at me. “I’m out shopping with Ember and Jasmine for their weddings.”
“Oh,” he said quickly.
“Would it matter if I was getting married?” I asked, testing the waters a bit.
“Um, no, of course not, as long as your fiancé or boyfriend or whatever wasn’t a jealous man.” He paused, “He’s not, is he?”
“Well, since I don’t have either a fiancé or a boyfriend, I will have to say no.”
“Good.” I heard the grin in his voice. “Okay, well sorry to bother you. Tell the ladies I said hello and have fun shopping.”
“I will.”
“What are you shopping for right now?” he asked.
I bit my lip to hold back the grin. “Lingerie,” I replied.
“Shit,” he exhaled. “Okay, I’ll let you go.”
I held back my laughter until I’d hung up and told Ember and Jasmine my conversation word for word. By the time we left the store, they both had me convinced that Tucker really was interested in more than just me being his private nurse. I considered heading back into the store to buy that cute teddy I’d seen, but fear that I was seeing more than what was really there kept me walking forward.
Chapter 12
Tucker
Holy hell! For the first time since my accident, I was feeling some tingling below the belt. That was a good sign, but not so great when I still had a catheter.
I pondered that for a moment. If Josey was going to be my private nurse, then she was also going to be assisting me with my daily needs, like using the bathroom. Ugh, so not the way I’d like to start a relationship with someone—not that this was a relationship. I knew that Josey was helping me, and that this was a business decision, but if something came out of it, would that be bad?
Of freaking course not! Several times over the last few months when I had seen Josey, I’d considered asking her out, but I knew she was really intelligent and intense with her work. She had a really important job saving people’s lives. I drove around in a car and broke up robberies and thefts, and dealt with domestics, not exactly high-intelligence jobs.
Josey didn’t act like a snob, but for some reason, I had still been uncomfortable with asking her out. What if she thought the job I did was too dangerous, or didn’t want to get involved with a cop? Although I knew of many cops and nurses who had gotten together because of their crazy work hours and stressful careers. I just wasn’t sure what she would think of it, so I’d never asked her out. I still hadn’t asked her out on a date, but I felt like something had shifted between us on the phone. She’d admitted that she wasn’t involved with anyone and had even teased me a little.
When my mother walked in, she found me lying back grinning.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing, I was just talking to Josey.”
“Is she still going to help you?” she asked as she rearranged a few flower arrangements that had arrived earlier from friends.
“Yeah, she is.”
“I’m glad to hear that. She seems like a nice girl. I already called home and started making some arrangements to have the suite cleaned and prepared for you, too.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I paused, “and don’t get your hopes up that something is going on between us, because it’s not. She’s just a friend who is helping me out.”
She gave me a sidelong glance. “If you say so.”
“Mom,” I ground out, but she was saved from any further conversation on the topic when the neurologist came in to check on me.
We talked about the fact that I was starting to feel tingles in my right leg, but other than pain that radiated out of my hips, I didn’t feel much from the left side. I also mentioned that my groin had been tingling earlier, although I omitted the precise circumstances.
He was happy with the news and told me that a physical therapist was going to be in my room a bit later today to start working my legs a little to keep the muscles from atrophying as much as we could.
I tried not to cringe as I pictured my legs withered and swore I was going to do every single thing I needed to do in order to get the use of them back.
I took a nap after he left and was just waking when the therapist showed up in my room. For twenty minutes, the therapist massaged my right leg and gently massaged my left calf muscle, careful to avoid any sudden jerks that might jar my thigh. I wished I could have enjoyed the massage, but I couldn’t feel it.
Amy was a sweet, young woman who chatted the whole time about life and animals. When she found out I had grown up on a horse farm, we spent the majority of the time talking about that.
It was odd to see someone touching and moving my body around, and I was barely able to feel it. The longer she worked on it, the more tense I became, until I almost yelled at her to stop. When my father came into the room to see me, I almost took his head off.
“Is there a problem, son?” he asked as he gave me a hard look from across the room.
“No, I’m just not in the mood for this anymore,” I retorted sullenly.
“Well, I’m about done for today anyway. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to see you again,” Amy said as she packed up the few things she brought with her, gave me a sweet smile, and darted out the door.
“You know, you might not be in the mood, but if you want to recover, you need to do what you’re told.”
“I know,” I grunted and refused to look at him as I shifted my sheets over my leg.
“What did she do that made you so angry?” he asked as he came around the side of the bed.
“Nothing.” I turned to stare at the other side of the room.
“Tucker Michael Wheatcraft, if you think I don’t know when you are lying, you have another thing coming. Talk to me, young man.”
“Dad, I’m not a kid anymore, and using my full name does not strike fear in me like it did when I was.”
“No, but it should tell you that I’m serious.”
I sighed.
“What’s going on, son?” He took a seat beside the bed.
“I don’t know, Dad. At first it was no big deal, but then she kept massaging my legs, and I couldn’t feel it, and it just started to make me angry.”
“Tuck, you know the doctors said it was going to take a while.”
“I know,” I growled toward him, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“No,” he shook his head, his dark head of hair barely moving as he did. “You don’t have to like it, but you don’t have to be an ungrateful ass either.”
“I wasn’t!”
“I taught you to be more respectful than that. Is that how you are going to treat your friend Josey when she comes out to help you? Are you going to growl and yell at her because you don’t like the fact that you can’t feel your legs? Because if you are, I’m going to have a talk with that young lady and tell her not to come.”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“You think I don’t see the way you look at her, and vice versa? I see something bubbling under the surface between you two, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you ruin something that you might want in the future because you want to act like a nasty person.”
“How the hell do you think I should act? I can’t feel my fucking legs, Dad!” For the first time since the incident, I started to show my deepest fear and tears prickled the backs of my eyes. “What if I never walk again, Dad? What the hell am I going to do then? Who the hell would want me then?”
My father stood and sat again on the side of my bed, taking my hand. “Tuck, I know you’re scared, son. I’m scared, too, and I’m glad to see some emotion finally coming out about this, but I have to believe you are going to walk again, and if you can’t,” he sighed and paused for a moment, “then we’ll figure it out. As for finding someone to love you if you’re in a wheelchair, some woman is going to be lucky to have you no matter how you move around. You’re an amazing young man, Tucker, and I’m proud
as hell of you.”
I swiped at my cheeks, the anger finally beginning to subside as other emotions began to bubble over. “Thanks, Dad.” I began to cry harder, and my father leaned over as I sat up a bit more so he could hold me.
I was so damned lucky that I had such amazing parents. My dad held me for a few moments, and when I felt another hand on my back, I looked up to see my mom, tears in her eyes, smiling down at me.
“We’ll figure it out, Tucker,” she said, and she switched places with my father and sat there cradling me like a little boy for a long time. Yeah, maybe I was thirty-three years old, but she was still my mother, and I needed her right then.
After my parents left that afternoon, I spent a lot of time thinking. What would I do if I was never able to walk again? What kind of work could I do? It wasn’t that I had to work, our family was well off because of Texan oil, but I sure as hell couldn’t sit on my ass in a wheelchair all day and feel sorry for myself.
I couldn’t imagine coming back to New York if I couldn’t do the job. It was hard enough getting around when you had two legs, how did people do it quickly while on wheels? For a long time, I thought back over my years here in the city and remembered people I had run into who were in wheelchairs. How hard were their lives? Jesus, how much I had taken for granted throughout my life.
I stared at Josey’s name on my cellphone, not wanting to be alone, but not wanting company either. How would she feel about a man who was in a wheelchair? Would she even consider dating someone who was? Could she fall in love with a man like that? My heart sped up. What if I never found a woman who could accept me? What if I never had someone to love me? What if I wasn’t able to have children?
I hit the button on my phone to call Josey with a shaking finger.
She answered on the third ring, “You alright?”
“No, I’m kinda freaking myself out right now,” I declared honestly.
She laughed softly, an immediate balm to my burning soul. “Okay, what’s on your mind?” Papers rustled in the background.
“Did I interrupt something? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was.”
“Tucker, I work nights, remember? I was just lying on the couch reading something. I’ll probably be up for another six to seven hours before I go to sleep.”
“Oh, yeah, okay, I forgot about that.” I stayed quiet for a moment, “What are you reading?”
“Did you really call me to see what I was doing, or is there something else?”
I stared at the ceiling of my room. “I had an anxiety attack today. Never had one of those before and it kind of freaked me out. Since my last visitor left two hours ago, I’ve been lying here dwelling on what ifs.”
Her voice grew serious, “What did you have an anxiety attack about?”
“Um, well the therapist was here working my legs, and I couldn’t feel it. The longer she worked with them, the more frustrated I became, and then all of a sudden it hit me that I can’t feel my legs, Josey. What if I can’t ever feel my legs again?”
“Oh, Tucker, I was waiting for this to happen. You have to have faith that you will get the use back.”
“But what if I don’t?”
“Then, you’ll need to come to terms with it. You can still live a full life.”
“But I won’t be able to be a cop anymore. What the hell am I going to do then? What woman is going to want a man who can’t walk?”
“Tuck, I know you are scared right now, but these are questions that you don’t have to think about. Right now, you need to stay focused and positive.”
“Josey, tell me the truth, could you love a man in a wheelchair?”
She was quiet so long that I wondered if I had lost the connection. Right before I looked at my phone, she replied, “Are you asking specifically about you, or a man in general?”
“Any man, me, whatever,” I replied abruptly.
“Yes, I could,” she answered quietly.
I instantly wondered if she meant me or any man. Why had I worded it that way? I was afraid to ask which one she meant.
“You could love a man in a wheelchair even if he couldn’t walk?”
“Yes, I could. I don’t measure a person on how his appendages work. I measure a person on his qualities as a human being: How he treats others and treats himself. I want a man who can love me, make me laugh, be there for me when I cry, a man who gets excited over the things that make me excited. He doesn’t need legs to do that.”
“You are a pretty special woman, Josey. I don’t think there are a lot of women who would be as accepting.”
“Well, then I guess you should be glad you have me, at least for right now.”
Chapter 13
Josey
And why did those words just pop out of my mouth? I asked myself. Oh, yeah, because I’m an idiot who was trying to set herself up for heartache, that’s why.
I sat on my couch, holding my forehead in my palm. When he’d asked me about loving a man in a wheelchair, I’d wanted to answer as quickly and smoothly as I had to his sister because the truth was I would, but I’d hesitated because I suddenly pictured him and me together years from now.
The thought kind of freaked me out—not that he would be in a wheelchair, but because I had seen it so vividly, the image like a photograph instead of a manufactured vision.
I’d never pictured the future when I’d been in love with Walker. I’d just known that I had wanted a future with him. In fact, I’d never pictured the future with anyone before.
Tucker brought me out of my musings, “You are a pretty special woman, Josey. I don’t think there are a lot of women who would be as accepting.”
“Well, then I guess you should be glad you have me, at least for right now.” Class, lesson one: How to stick your foot in your mouth.
“I am glad,” he intoned softly. “I’m glad that I have someone I can talk to that I trust.”
“Well, that’s good.” We both were quiet for a moment, “Are you calmed down now?”
“Not as much as I am when you play with my hair, which I still think is odd, but it works.”
“Yeah, well don’t ever discount the effect that having someone play with your hair has on you. It’s one of the reasons women spend so much time at the hairdressers.”
His laugh was husky, “Oh, is that it? Wow, the secret has finally been revealed.”
“Yeah, well don’t tell anyone where you heard it. I don’t want to get kicked out of the secret society.”
“You’re secret’s safe with me, Josey.” He was still joking around, but his voice had softened.
“Well, if you are feeling better, I need to get back to my reading.”
“You never did tell me what you were reading.”
“And I’m not going to,” I replied saucily.
“Oh, wait, you’re reading one of those sexy romance books, right? The kind that gets you all hot and bothered?”
I glanced down at the book I’d borrowed from a friend, Being a Caregiver to Someone in a Wheelchair. “Oh, it’s really sexy,” I joked back.
“Well, then I’ll let you get back to it.” He hesitated, “Thanks, Josey, and while you’re reading that smut book, try not to think of me too much, okay?”
I choked out a laugh. “Goodnight, Tucker.”
“Goodnight, Josey.”
After we hung up, I set down my phone and picked up the book. One of my friends knew someone who was a caregiver for a quadriplegic and suggested I speak with her about some tips. She’d been so nice, she’d loaned me several books.
No smut here, well, unless I considered the information about making sure the patient’s lower body is shifted several times a day to avoid bedsores as sexy reading.
I sighed as I leaned back on the couch; I sure hoped that Tucker got the use of his legs again. It was such a waste that he had lost them in the first place.
The next afternoon, I headed into work early to see Tucker and to talk to his parents. He’d sent me a text earli
er asking me if I could.
When I stepped into his room, Amy, one of the roving physical therapists, was bending his right leg up and down. “Amy, it’s nice to see you, how’s the patient doing? Is he behaving for you?”
“Josey, what are you doing up here? I didn’t know they let you guys out of the OR.”
“They don’t, I’m just coming on. I had a few minutes, so I wanted to see how this guy was doing.”
“This sucks,” Tucker inserted, “but I am behaving myself.”
Amy laughed. “He’s better than he was yesterday. I thought he might clock me upside the head with that flower vase over there yesterday.”
“Tuck, you better not,” I scolded him.
He grinned. “I would never.”
“I would hope not.” I directed my attention back to Amy, “Hey, how late are you here tonight?”
“He’s my last patient. I need to write up some reports. Why? What did you need?”
“Actually, I’d really like to see your notes about what you are doing and what your recommendations are for his therapy. I’m going to be heading to Texas with Tucker when he gets discharged, and until we get him set up with a therapist there, I need to understand what he needs.”
Amy quirked her lip up on one side. “You don’t say.”
Tucker laughed and tried to hide it with a cough when I glared at him.
“He’s a family friend, thought I would help him out for a few weeks.”
Amy turned to Tucker, “Wow, you must be some family friend. This woman never takes time off.”
“So I’ve heard,” he replied smugly.
“Okay, stop talking like I’m not here, please.”
Amy winked at Tucker. “Sure, I can give you the plan we have worked up for his hospital stay, and what we were going to suggest he do once he is discharged, but he’s going to need intense therapy as soon as he gets out, and when the feeling starts to return, he’s going to need even more.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I want a firm understanding of everything before he even checks out.”
